Music of Healing
by EdwardC.-RPattzluver343
Summary: A girl with a disturbing past comes to Suburbia for the summer. When she can't stand the neighbors, She goes to stay in the Mansion on the mountain. While there she befriends and eventually falls for the young man living there. There's a lot more to the story-read and find out.
1. Chapter 1

**So sorry about the wait. I've been swamped with school work and HS Graduation.**

**I own NOTHING, except the unrecognized characters.**

I left the train station about an hour ago, dragging my feet the whole way. Ashley had offered to pick my up, but I wasn't in the mood to talk to her, or anyone else for that matter. I wasn't much of a talker anyway, not since that night. And when I tried, someone would stop me, saying that they don't want to hear it. Everyone at my school thought I was a freak; the girl who dresses in black leather covered in buckles and chains, and carries a knife in her pocket. Since I never saw a therapist to help me, I turned to drawing my own blood-That became my drug.

I dragged my boots across the sidewalk. I mostly kept my eyes down at them, only looking up a few times to make sure I was going the right way. All around me were sickly colored pastel houses, all looking the same from every angle. I was about ready to vomit when I reached the door to Ashley's house.

"Trina." She squeaked from the couch. Running up to hug me. I tensed up almost immediately.

"Darcey." I said as nonchalantly as I could.

"Excuse me?" She asked letting go.

"My name is Darcey." Trying to smile.

"Nonsense, your mother calls you Trina, and that's what I'll call you."

Terrific, I've known my new aunt all of a few minutes and I already hate her. Is everyone ignoring the clear difference in my clothes and the fact that I never smile sincerely anymore?

"I wish you'd let me pick you up. I could've let you know I invited some guests over to you."

"Great." I mumbled sarcastically.

"That's the spirit." She said, clearly ignoring the sarcasm. "Follow me."

I dropped my bags in my room without turning the lights on, or looking out my window. I sauntered over to the dining room table without saying a word. Around me was a woman with fiery red hair and a flirty smile. Next to her was plump woman with long brown hair. On the other side of the table were Ashley and another plump woman with poofy, sand-colored hair. Though they seemed to have one thing in common:

"Hey there, Trina." Red Head started in a fake southern drawl. "Do you like the look of our beloved town here? Ashley here told us you walked here from the train station."

"That's quite a walk there Missy." Brown Hair stated.

"I like getting some exercise." I smiled, though it hurt my face.

"But don't your feet hurt Darlin'?" Red Head asked.

"I've been in worse pain."

"Well regardless." Sandy Hair said. "You never answered the question from before Trina."

"It's Darcey." I put a lot of emphasize on the name, hopping to get the point across. "And I always prefer walking. It gives me time to think." I thought a little about the look of the town and how I could barely look at it for a few seconds without getting sick. "To be honest, I couldn't really look at this place without getting sick."

"Well Darlin'," Red Head sounded insulted, "I guess I should've expected that. Considering what you're wearing."

'Finally' I thought. "Ouch. I'm wounded." I said, sounding bored.

"Now Joyce." Sandy hair said. "She must have been looking at the mansion on the hill."

Mansion? What Mansion? I didn't anything, but then again, I pretty much blinded by the puke-colored houses to notice.

"That must be it." Joyce said. "I mean, look how the poor gal is dressed. She looks just like him, minus the hands and the hair of course."

"Okay, what or who are you people talking about?" I yelled, rubbing my temples.

"You didn't tell her?" Sandy Hair asked.

"No Marge, we haven't really talked until today." Ashley said.

Marge? Wow, dye her poofy hair blue, and I could call her Marge Simpson.

"Well what a Purrfect opportunity." Joyce said in a flirty tone-were she and whomever they were talking about involved. Either way, it was kind of gross.

She turned to me. "You see Darlin', a few years ago a young man was brought down from that mansion to live with us."

"He seemed like such a quiet, charming guy a first." Marge said.

"So what was the problem?" I asked.

"Brace yourself Girly." Brown Hair said. "You see this man had…well he had-"

"Oh good gracious Helen, he's dead after all, stop worrying." Ashley said before turning to me. "This man Trina, he had scissors for hands."

"Excuse me, what?"

"It's true. He came down here and terrorized us all." Marge said.

Now I was getting really confused. People don't have scissors for hands, and once more how could he "terrorize" if he was supposedly charming? An image of my dad came to mind, but I pushed it back down before anyone noticed.

"He even raped Poor Joyce." Ashley said.

Joyce made NO attempt to look distressed in any way, shape, or form, it was then that I decided that what they were saying was complete B.S. However, I was curious to find out what "happened" to this guy.

"Well right before Christmas," Helen said. "He went on a rampage through the neighborhood-destroying the topiaries he had made before he went crazy. The next thing we know we come outside and he's attacking some poor innocent child."

"Brutal." I said, trying to sound like I actually believed in this crap. "What happened next?"

"They police chased him up to that mansion, and one of our youths tried to kill him. The scissor-handed man killed him first. HE died by the roof caving in on him."

"Jeez." I muttered.

"Indeed." Marge said. "Well, on subject. Trina-"

"Darcey."

"Whatever. Anyway, Ashley told us that you're adopted."

"Well, well, well. How did that happen?" Joyce asked.

That struck a chord, but I kept my face composed. "That's kind of personal." I said.

"Well you know Missy. Talking about it can help." Helen pushed.

I groaned, completely flabbergasted at how desperate these women were for good gossip. Well they're out of luck here. "I have a question for all of you." I paused and they all nodded their heads, gesturing me to continue. "Does all the excitement in this town come from mindless gossip? If I tell you what _really_ happened, there's a good chance that you're going to twist the story into the many possible ways you see fit." They were speechless, all of them staring at me with their eyes bugged out and their mouths agape. I got up. "Well I'm officially tired and heading off to bed. Have fun saying whatever it is you want to give me bad reputation in this town." As I turned to walk away, I got another idea. "Actually, I have a challenge for you all. Try saying something nice about me. Say that I was only speaking my mind, and that you appreciate that even though the truth is hard to hear. That is, if you have the guts to accept that."

I left the room before they could respond. "Wow." I thought. "That's the most I've said in one sitting in a long time. What a relief." I took my iPod out of my pocket and cranked the music so I couldn't here what they were saying. Ashley came in about an hour or so later. I only knew because the lights in the hallway interrupted the darkness. "Are they gone?" I asked.

"Yes." She sounded angry. "Why would you be so rude to the guests? They were just trying to be nice." I didn't answer, and that only made her angrier. "ANSWER ME!"

"Are you going to hit me if I don't?"

That shocked her, but it didn't surprise me. When my teachers would get mad at me, I would ask them the same question.

"N-no." She stuttered.

"I can always tell who a person really is when I either look in to their eyes or listen to the tone of their voice, and those women are nothing but snobby gossipers."

"Well regardless, try to be nicer next time. That's an order."

My hands tightened into fists and tears rained down my face as I threw myself off the bed. "YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER, OR MY PERVERTED DAD! AND IF YOU WANT TO CONTINUE CALLING YOURSELF MY AUNT YOU'LL SPEAK A WORD OF THIS TO ANYONE." And with that, I hightailed it out of the door, slamming it shut. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, not knowing where they were taking me-not caring in the least. As I passed each house, all of their lights were switched off. After a while, I realized I was running up a hill, or maybe I should call it a mountain when I saw how high up it was, now that I think about it, there was a broken gate at the bottom of it. Man I was pissed, and I still was at the moment. That didn't make me want to go back. My legs continued to carry me up to another gate, this one intact, but covered in ivy vines on the farther side. I gave it a slight push and just opened it far enough to fit through it. Nothing could've prepared me for the sight that lay beyond:

Though I could only see under the cover of the full moon, the light made everything much more ethereal, like how the snow covers up the deceased earth in the winter. All around me were fields of green topiaries sculpted into all sorts of animals. There was a squirrel, a reindeer, and even a sea serpent. The most magnificent however, was the opened hand in the middle of the garden. Around the sculptures were all sorts of colorful flowers. It was like leaving the world of reality, and walking into Wonderland or something. The garden stood in front of a grey, dilapidated castle. Though it was damaged, it still gave this place an enchanted feel to it. Okay, scratch Wonderland and put Fairytale land.

I looked up to one of the windows to see that it was broken. And despite everything only being lit by the dim light of the moon, I could see a shadow moving in the room. Despite the fear that crawled through my skin, I didn't want to go back. I walked up to the door and tried to push it open, and like the gate, I was only able to get it open far enough to fit through it. Note to self; exercise more. I pushed it closed and slid to the floor, still panting, still sweating from the run. I stayed there for a while to regain my energy and when I did, I forced myself up. I stumbled around the dark corridor to see a bunch of old machines in front of me. Upon further inspection, I could see that it was a giant cookie-making machine. "Wow, whom ever made that must've been a really smart man."

It was then that I heard a sound behind me. It sounded like metal scraping against metal, almost like…scissors. I turned around to see the shadow again as I looked up. I dragged myself to the stairs and held onto the cold banister as I walked up each step. I contemplated calling out to the shadow, whatever or whoever it was, but decided against it thinking it was more scared of me than I was of it. I followed it all the way up to the attic; it seemed empty, and the snipping silenced, but I found no harm in looking around. The roof had a gigantic hole in it and as I turned around I could see a shredded bedpost sitting in the fireplace surrounded by a ton of newspaper and book clippings. Looking beyond the bed, I saw a bunch of pictures of random people. The one that stood out the most was a newspaper article that read, "Boy Born Without Eyes, Reads With Hands". Just then I heard the snipping again and saw the gleam of metal in the moonlight as a figure moved forward.

"Kim?" It muttered.

"Um, no." I whispered.

It started backing away.

"You don't have to hide, you know. I can't hurt anything." Well not physically anyway. I'm sure did an amount of emotional damage back at Ashley's, but I could care less about that.

It started walking towards me again.

"You won't?" A young boy asked. Though I said I wouldn't harm him, I could still hear fear in his voice, and something else too-it sounded like sadness.

As he appeared in the light, I lost my voice. He was a young man, maybe late teens or twenties, covered in black leather from the neck down adorned with tons of buckles. Well more than I had anyway. His raven black hair was so unkempt and tangled it looked like it hadn't been brushed in years. His complexion was snow-white pale, his face covered in scars with eyes so deep and mysterious that I thought I could feel my heart melting. But that's not what shocked me the most. What held my attention more than any other feature on the man were his hands. What I previously thought were scissors he was holding _in _his hands, turned out to actually _be _his hands. I knew I should've been scared, because those gossipy women weren't lying about that particular detail. But as I looked at his face again, I saw all that fear and sadness that I'd heard in his voice just moments before. Feeling anything remotely close to fear wasn't an option. Though, it made me wonder why he was like that.

It took some time for me to realize that I had yet to respond to his question, and that I were making him nervous.

"No." I said. When he didn't respond, I continued. "So do you live up here alone?"

"Yes."

"Where are your folks?"

He looked at me confusingly.

"Your mom and dad?" I clarified.

"He didn't wake up." He muttered, looking like he was about to cry, and I really didn't want that.

"How long have you been up here?"

"I don't know."

"Have you ever been down there?" I pointed to the window to show him what I meant.

"Yes." He responded quickly.

"Did you like it?"

"For a time." He didn't say anything more. I took that as my queue to change the subject.

"That makes one of us, but you don't have to say what happened." I could tell he was relieved. "Did you make all of those sculptures out there?" I asked, referring to the animal-like shapes in the garden.

He simply nodded.

"They're beautiful."

"Thank you."

Before I could respond, my iPhone vibrated in my pocket. The action seemed to scare the young man because he jumped back a few steps.

"Don't be scared, that was just my phone. I promise I'll be right back."

"Don't go." He pleaded.

"I'll just be in the next room. Trust me, you don't want to hear this. It could get ugly. I promise, I'll be right back."

He didn't seem convinced, but despite that he nodded, and I ran into the hallway to answer the phone.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Ashley yelled frantically.

"Wow, I didn't know you cared." I said sarcastically.

I could hear other voices in the background-she had told the others. And clearly, she ignored the sarcasm in my voice.

"Where are you?" She asked again.

"Doesn't matter. You told the others, and I distinctly remember telling you that if you told anyone, you were no longer considered my aunt."

"You meant that?"

"What are you, a child?" I said. "It's a lot better than being surrounded by a bunch of gossiping snobs hounding me for details about my life and then later, twisting said details in however they see fit, which I know for a fact would happen if they did. Tell them to shove that in their pipe and smoke it. If you have the balls to do so. If Nikki calls, tell her I ran away, but am totally safe. Good bye." I hung up the phone and shoved it back into my pocket.

I entered the attic again to see the young man looking at me questioningly. "Sorry about that." I started. "I told you it could get ugly, and boy did it ever. But no one knows where I am so I doubt anyone will come here, which reminds me, I never got your name."

"Edward." He said quickly.

"I'm-" I paused. I looked into his eyes again-he looked so childish, so innocent, and so scared that I just couldn't lie to him. "Trina Smith."

He nodded and for the briefest moment, I saw the ghost of a smile touch his lips. "Stay here tonight?" He asked. To any other boy I would've freaked out, but looked and sounded so genuine that I knew he wouldn't hurt me. And definitely didn't want to go back.

"I'd love to." I said smiling, and meaning it for the first time in years.

His smile grew. "Follow me." He said, walking out the room. I didn't realize before, but his walk sort of reminded me of Charlie Chaplin a little. I used to watch those old silent films with my dad and sister before…that night. It was our bonding thing. I followed Edward to a thick engraved door on the second floor. He stuck one of his blades into the lock and then pushed it open with his shoulder. What was inside took my breath away.

The room had an ever-present gothic feel to it. All of the furniture was covered in elegant blood red draping. The thick fabrics that hung over the queen-sized bed shielded the windows. The walls were painted a mahogany color, matching the woods of the floor, the giant bookshelf, and the couch placed across from the bed. It took all of my power not to squeal, because I'd always dreamed of having a room like this. I guess I was really obsessed with those fairytales.

"Wow, I love it. Thank you."

"Your welcome." He said a bit awkwardly.

I yawned then _damn. _I thought. _Not now. _

"You tired?"

"A little." I slurred.

"Then you should sleep."

I nodded, climbing into the bed, which was extremely comfortable.

"Good night." He said turning to leave.

"Edward?"

He turned to face me.

"Thank you."

He smiled once more and nodded, leaving the room. He left the door open; my guess was because he couldn't close it with his scissor hands. Was I scared of those? I should be, due to past experience, but I wasn't. And despite his appearance, I could tell he was kind and gentle on the inside, a pure heart of gold.

_This is going to be one great summer_. I thought as I laid my head on the pillow and fell asleep instantly.

**What do you think? Like/Don't Like **

**Let me know :)**


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up to the faint sound of snipping as I pulled my eyes open to see an old-fashioned bedroom. I tried as hard as I could to sweep the fog away from my mind to figure out what I was doing in this strange place. And what that noise was, though it kind out sounded like….

SCISSORS.

Everything came flying through my mind at that moment: being forced into having dinner with a bunch of gossiping snobs. Getting angry with them because they kept pressing me for personal information. Running out of the door, towards the mansion on the top of the mountain, the same one I was residing in at the moment. Hearing that same noise in the darkness. Climbing up the stairs to the attic to find a man…with scissors for hands. I sat up and swiftly, but silently got out of the bed. I walked over to the window and stared down at the same man trimming the sculptures that littered the front yard. And I stayed there for what felt like hours, but in reality was only about fifteen minutes before I made my way down there to join him.

The front door made a loud creaking noise, but as I looked at him, it didn't seem to disrupt him in anyway. I stood on the front steps, afraid to stand behind him due to the fact that he might hurt me. I knew beyond reason that he wouldn't do it intentionally, but better safe than sorry. All too soon he was finished and spend a few more minutes observing his work before turning to face me. He jumped back accidentally cutting his face in the process. I gasped and ran over to him, that cut looked like it really hurt.

"Sorry." I apologized, pulling out a fresh tissue from my pocket and dabbing it over the cut. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay." He mumbled.

"Does this hurt?" From some reason, I could feel my face heat up. Maybe it was because I was in such a close proximity with a boy.

He shook his head. "Why is your face red?"

That made my blush deepen. "No reason to worry about."

"Your not sick?"

I laughed awkwardly. "No." I looked around the yard, desperate to change the subject. "How do you make those?" I asked pointing the sculptures. No words can describe the anguish written all over his face as he held up his "hands". I mentally punched myself in the face for making him do that. I remembered feeling like a display object when those women asked me about my life. How bad it felt. Now I was the woman and he was the display. No way in hell would I ever want that. I hurried to correct myself while pushing back the tears that were threatening to fall. "I meant," I started pushing his hands down, "some of the creatures are fictional."

"Fictional?" He asked, the anguish replaced with confusion.

"Not real."

He nodded.

So me question is, how?"

"My father read me books. Some had pictures."

"So you create what you see?"

He nodded again.

I smiled just in time for my stomach to growl.

"What was that?" He asked, a little afraid.

I laughed a little. "It was my stomach Edward."

"You're hungry." It sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Yes."

He lifted one of his blades and pointed to the door, gesturing me to follow him. He led me to the cookie-making machine I'd seen the night before. He told me to stand by the end of a conveyor belt as he walked over to a switch on the wall, and with his middle blade, pushed it up to turn it on.

The invention roared to life as I watched the little egg fall into a bowl of pre-made batter, all the way into the oven, and back out to where I was standing. Each cookie fell into the little bin at my feet.

I took a star cookie and placed it in my mouth. The taste was magnificent, like all the other desserts in the world couldn't compare with it. Well, at least the ones that I've had so far, and I haven't really eaten desserts in a while.

"This is delicious."

"Thank you."

"You want one?" I asked, holding up another cookie.

He nodded as he walked over to me, but I could see a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. Then it hit me-He can't pick up a cookie, he needs to rely on others for help on the simplest things.

"Here, open up."

He opened his mouth and I placed half of it into his mouth as he took a bite. He moaned, I guessed it was because he hadn't eaten these in a while.

"How did you manage to eat after your father died?" I asked.

"Died?"

I should really start to think before I talk to Edward. He's so innocent that he doesn't even understand the concept of death. I should've known that. When I asked about his dad last night, he replied with "He didn't wake up." God I wish I could be that naïve.

"When he never woke up?"

"I attempted using my hands."

"Is that how you got some your scars?"

"Yes."

The poor guy, always having to hurt himself just so he can eat.

"Can I ask you something?" He mumbled, still chewing.

"No talking with your mouth full." I teased him.

He swallowed, and crouched behind his blades. "I'm sorry."

"I was just teasing." It was true, and it felt so good to feel so free again.

"I forgot my manners." He muttered to himself.

"Don't worry about it Edward. I don't care."

"Really?"

I nodded.

Only after a few more cookies was I full. Edward on the other hand seemed to want to eat everyone that in that bin. I didn't mind too much though, it gave me something to do. And with each passing second, I grew more and more fascinated with him.

"What was the first sculpture you ever made?"

He took a few minutes to chew before answering. "I started to do it the day after my father gave me my legs. It was the reindeer."

"Was a reindeer included in one of the stories your dad read to you?"

"It was the first one he read to me after I woke up."

"Was it Christmas time?"

"Yes." His voice seemed strained at that response. Maybe that was the time when his dad died some months or years later.

"Can I ask you something?" He asked.

I nodded.

"What does 'died' mean?"

That just tore at my heartstrings. The way he always described what happened to his dad, it seemed like he didn't fully understand the concept of death, and that his mind kept telling him that his dad will wake some day.

"Do you understand anything about death?" I asked.

He shook his head.

I sighed, trying to think of the best way to describe it without breaking his heart. Though I was pretty sure no such thing existed. Finally, I took both of his 'hands' in my own careful not hurt myself. I looked at his shocked face and began. "Death is a way of describing the end of one's life. To put in your own words, one goes into a permanent sleep."

"He's not going to wake up is he?" He sounded like he was sobbing and as I continued to look at him tears stared to rain down his face.

I felt like I was gonna lose it in that moment, but a voice in the back in my head told me that that wouldn't be a good idea. Without even thinking about it, I let go of his hands and wrapped my arms around his shoulders clutching him to me. I never once had to comfort a friend like this, not even when I was little. But I knew the pain of losing someone I cared about, and even though _I _didn't have one, I had no objections to being his shoulder to cry on.

He eventually calmed down and pulled himself out of my arms. "Can I asked another question?" He sniffed.

"Anything." I whispered giving him a reassuring smile.

"What happened to him?"

That confused me a little bit. "What happened to his body?"

"No. Where is he now?"

I knew what he meant then. "That's a tough question to answer."

"Why?"

"Because a lot of people have different ideas about that."

"What about you?"

I thought about that. I didn't really believe in anything having to do with religion anymore. But I do remember what I was taught in church. "In honesty Edward, I don't really believe in that stuff anymore, but I was taught something in church."

He waited patiently.

"When a person dies, their soul can either be sent to heaven or hell. And what determines which we are sent to depends on the choices we've in our lives and what we've done."

I nodded seeming to understand.

"Was your father a good man?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Did he do anything bad?"

He seemed to think about that for a second, but then his face twisted into a very anguished expression. "He created me." He whispered.

Words escaped me in that moment. I stared at him, my mouth agape. Trying to understand why he'd just said that. I could tell he was a good person with a kind heart and I hadn't even known him for twenty-four hours. How could he think otherwise?

Apparently, I took too long to try and respond because he turned and walked away from me. As he got to the base of the stairs he turned back to me and chocked out a few words. "I killed a man." And then he continued his ascend up the staircase.

I just stood there, my feet glued to the floor. I could tell he wasn't lying, but I also knew that he wasn't a cold-blooded person. When I was able to move again I followed him up the stairs and when I caught him, he was at the threshold to the attic. I gently put my hand on his shoulder and he stopped. I began speaking very slowly. "Why? Why did you do it?" He turned towards me and looked right into his eyes. "I know you're not a bad person, so why?"

"I was afraid." He strangled. "He tried to kill me, and someone I loved."

That was a scary coincidence. "I know that feeling. That fear." I felt tears run down my face I didn't care if he saw me. "I can't say what happened, but I know how painful it is. This isn't about me though. You're not a murderer. I can tell. You had a reason and were put in a position where you had no other means of defense besides murder." I paused to make absolute sure I was getting through his head before continuing again. "And for that reason Edward, you _are _a good person, and for that, I know your father is in heaven."

Fresh tears started raining down his face as he rested his head on my shoulder. "Thank you." He sobbed. "Thank you for saying that about me. Those people whom I'd considered friends thought I was a bad person after an incident and forced me back here. Back into this lonely place."

"All those people are idiots." I said, holding him in my arms stroking his knotted hair.

We stayed in that position for God knows how long. All I know is when we calmed down again, the sky was painted in various oranges, pinks, and yellows, but in that time I made a promise to myself. Edward had entrusted me with probably some of the most personal information in his life. Even if it killed me, one day, I was going to tell him what I had kept secret for nearly eight or so years.

**Why does everyone get to hug Edward but me? ;O.**

**Now that that's over, I know that this was a little too fast-paced, but I wanted Trina to get even more comfortable with Edward.**

**Let me know when you think **


	3. Chapter 3

**I own nothing except a few characters that aren't Edward **

The clock had just struck midnight. It was time for me to move. I had to get my stuff from Ashley's without anyone noticing me, and this time of night was perfect. I explained to Edward the situation and that I would come back before sunrise. I ran out the door and through the front yard, but before squeezing through the gate I turned around and looked at the window. "I'll be back." I whispered, and then I left. It was much easier running down the mountain than up. This time I wasn't sweating to death.

I looked at the neighborhood and saw that only a few lights were still on. _"Seriously." _I thought to myself. But luckily I had a back up plan. When I was walking here yesterday, I had seen a twenty-four open market at least twenty minutes from here. Ten if I ran. As I arrived at the store the only people outside the store were a bunch of teens in a smoking circle. I paid them no mind and luckily they gave me the same treatment as I walked into the store. I looked around to see what Edward might like. I still couldn't believe He lives off of cookies. I walked up and down each aisle just grabbing things. I grabbed some fruits, soups, crackers, lunchmeats, bread, cereal, and finally some other desserts. I looked at the cakes and ice creams mostly. It was hard to decide, but I opted for a German chocolate cake, some Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream and some other things. I paid for all of it and jet over to the neighborhood. This time, all lights were off. I silently made my way to Ashley's house and grabbed my stuff.

The trip back up the mountain was relatively easier than last time. How ever the challenge was getting all the bags through the gate. I put everything down, and pushed with all I had in me. The gate screeched open and I saw Edward at the window again. I smiled as I carried the bags in. He met me at the bottom of the stairs. "What's all that?" He asked.

"Some lights were still on when I went down. So I decided to do a little shopping." I explained, putting down the shopping bags. "Which reminds me I got to put some of these away."

He nodded and gestured me to follow him. I carried the bags into a kitchen that seemed to belong in a house in the 19th century or something, but with a few modifications. There was a wood stove across from the entrance underneath a giant window overlooking the side of the mansion. Pots and pans hanging in an indent between wooden cabinets that had intricate spirals craved into them. There was a copper sink to my left and a fringe/freezer to my right. The floor was incredibly dusty, but I could see the chestnut brown boarding underneath. I immediately got to work before the ice cream melted. Edward was able to work some. I placed bags of fruits and boxes of crackers in his arms while he cradled them to the little granite island in the center or the counters and I would put them away.

"What's this?" He asked.

I turned and looked at what he was trying to pick up. "Those are hair products."

"You need some hair products?"

Now it was my turn to blush again. "Maybe I should've asked you first."

"You want to fix my hair?"

I laughed nervously. "Only if you want me to. My mom had become a hairdresser later in life so…" I started talking like a blathering idiot. I don't think I've ever been so embarrassed before, but I do eventually shut up refusing to open my mouth.

"Okay." He said.

I looked at him. "Really?"

"Sure. I'm tired of these knots."

"No one tried to fix them before?"

"Once." His face turned sad as he said that, so I tried to avoid anymore tear jerking moments.

"Didn't work out then?" Ugh, what is wrong with me? Must be the lack of sleep.

My frustrations fated as I saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, making my heart leap a few paces too fast. Weird. "No."

I yawned then. "Cool, then we'll start as soon as I'm fully awake again."

He laughed.

"_Aw what an adorable sound." _What did I just think just now? His smile is making my heart jump and his laugh is practically melting me. God I need some sleep.

"Good night." I yawned.

"Good night." He said. "Do you want me to walk you up to your room?"

I was about to say no, but in the state I'm in, I'll probably be wondering around this place like a zombie for the rest of the night. "Sure."

He smiled, making my heart jump again.

God damn that smile.

I awoke to the sound of snipping again. Though I've only spent two nights here, it seemed like the most familiar sound in the world. I didn't feel like going down there today, mostly because the churning in my stomach was too overpowering. I dragged my way over to the door, but before I got there I tripped over my bags. Weird, last time I checked I didn't bring them up here last night. And then I saw that the strap hanging the top of the bags were cut in half. _Aw what a gentlemen. _

I shook myself out of my reverie and grabbed some of my toiletries and a new set of clothes, and went to find the bathroom, which oddly enough I a house this big wasn't hard to find. I brushed my teeth first and then I took out my pill jar. I thought about taking these for a minute. The whole idea of taking them was to keep myself from having any suicidal urges, but since I met Edward, I haven't even taken speaking knife out. So I put the jar back down and got in the shower.

It was about thirty minutes later that I got out of the shower and got dressed. The feeling was so refreshing after having worn the same clothes two day in a row. I wasn't sure if Edward was still outside in the yard, so I stealthily made my way to the kitchen. I pulled out a bowl from the cabinet and grabbed the cereal and milk. I just sat down to eat when I heard the front door creak open.

"Good Morning." I yawned.

Edward jumped. "Good morning." He muttered.

"Are you hungry?"

He nodded.

"Then come in here." I got up from my seat at searched around the kitchen. "What would you like?"

He shrugged as he sat in the seat next to mine. "Whatever you're having I guess."

I smiled and got out another bowl and the cereal. I sat it down right in front of him.

His face turned sat again.

It was then that I remembered something in my bag that might help. "Hold on a second." I got up from my seat and ran up to my room. I unzipped one of the bags and pulled out the tape. Why Nikki wanted me to bring that I don't know. I raced down the stairs and back into the kitchen. I stood in front of Edward and attached the spoon onto his thumb. I sat back down and watched him carefully (just to make sure he doesn't cut himself). He seemed nervous over my penetrating gaze, so I want back to my own food, watching from the corner of my eye. His hand shook a little as he tried to eat on his own, so I opted to help. I placed my thumb and forefinger over his tapped thumb, and my other hand over his wrist. I very carefully dipped the spoon into the cereal and brought it to his lips.

"Mmm." He moaned.

I smiled. "I can hear you like it." I sat back down, leaving him to eat on his own.

He blushed.

"No need to be embarrassed." I said. "Is it nice to finally eat on your own?"

His expression was anguished as he looked at his hands. He remained silent, but I knew what he was thinking.

I took a deep breath. "You don't want those hands do you?"

"No."

I spoke slowly. "Did you ever, try to get surgery when you were living in the neighborhood?"

"Some people told me they had doctor friends, or knew someone who could help."

"Did you hear anything afterwards?"

He shook his head.

I rolled my eyes. "Figures." I breathed.

"What?"

I didn't want to insult anyone who he might've still considered friends, or at least still liked. "Well, maybe they just wanted to say that to make you happy."

"It did."

"But they didn't keep that promise."

"What do you mean?"

"When Nikki took me in, I was damaged both physically and mentally. She said that she would get me help in front of her friends. But she didn't even make a call. That was eight years ago.

"Once before when I was twelve I asked her when she was going to call someone while she was having a book club. I showed them damage I'd done to myself. She slapped me in the face that same night when they left."

"You think they just told me take to appear nice in the eyes of their friends?"

I looked into his eyes. "That's just my experience. I'm not saying it was that. It was just a possibility."

"Why would the do that?

"Some of the people in this world are just terrible." I sighed not really wanting to talk about it anymore.

Apparently he thought the same because he didn't respond.

"Do you want me to try and untangle that hair of yours?"

He smiled and nodded.

I got up from my chair and untapped his blade. "Follow me."

We ran up the stairs to the bathroom. I brought a chair up to the sink and grabbed a bottle of shampoo, conditioner and a _very _sturdy brush.

"Sit. Then lay your head back into the sink." I said.

As he did so, I tested the water to make sure it was the right temperature. I soaked it to the point where his hair would be running down his shoulders if he were sitting up. I grabbed the brush and started running the teeth through the black tangled ocean. More than a few times it would get stuck, but I was able to yank it out, bringing a few strays with me.

Next, I grabbed the shampoo and dug through the hair before brushing it again, this time without running into any knots. Finally, I reached for the conditioner. "Final step. You doing alright?" I knew he was, I could tell by the smile that adorned his lips. Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, I went on massaging his scalp.

It was then that I heard a strange noise. It was a primal sound, a light guttural sound. But it seemed a little lighter, almost like a…

"Edward?" I said, stunned but a little entertained. "Did you just purr?" I asked, rinsing the soap out.

I saw his face flush tomato red, which made me laugh.

"No need to be embarrassed. I've heard worse when I would come to visit mom at work."

"Really?" He said.

"Yeah. Well that should just about do it. Let me get a towel and I'll brush it one more time. After, just let it air dry."

The rest of the day I spent mostly in my room unpacking my stuff. It wasn't until I picked up my clothes from the past two days that the knife fell out of the pocket tinkled on the floor. I looked at it lying next to my foot, as if it were trying to hypnotize me into using it. Just a few days ago it had been my drug, my escape from reality. Now, I was physically detached that world living with a guy who looks so dangerous, but has the kindest heart anyone could have. I smiled as tears of joy dripped down my cheek. I picked up the knife and stuffed it in a drawer.

Just then the creak of the door brought me back to reality.

"Yes?" I asked looking at Edward.

"I want to show you something." He seemed more nervous than usual which was saying a lot. I followed out to the door to the front yard. He stopped in front of a sculpture that I knew cut today because I hadn't seen it before. But that's not what shocked me. The figure was in a sitting position. Her cheek was resting in her palm with her face looking up towards the darkening sky.

It was me.

"Do you…like it?"

"Edward I…" I had to pause to take a couple minutes to compose myself. "I love it. Thank you" I hugged him.

"Your welcome." He said. "I just wanted to thank you for not being afraid of me."

I smirked over his neck. "I could never be afraid of you."

And that was one thousand percent true.

**I'm going to wedding, so I won't be able to write for a few days.**

**Reviews make me write more **

**And don't worry, Trina's big secret is coming.**


	4. Chapter 4

It's funny how you never pay attention to time when you're having fun. Many wouldn't consider what I've been doing fun, but I don't care. My days usually consisted of waking up, cooking for Edward and I, watching him create masterpieces out of bushes, and just sitting outside talking with him, sometimes taking me on tours of the mansion because I kept forgetting where some rooms are, but he didn't seem to mind. I didn't mind it though. Edward makes me feel something I haven't been able to feel in a long time. Happiness. Actual happiness. I'm able to smile and laugh without feeling guilty or pain inside. It's like a breath of fresh air.

But today, when I tried to count the days, I came to the conclusion that I'd been here for about half of the summer so far. And now, it was probably twelve in the morning, at least that's what my phone said. I sunk into the sheets as I closed my eyes listening to the soft rhythms of the crickets outside.

Soon afterwards, I was standing in the middle of a small bedroom. The walls were pink with a king-sized bed with matching sheets and a lavender canopy hanging over it. There were half dressed Barbie dolls on the carpet along with normal clothes strewn all over the place. I looked on the nightstand to see a folded picture in a frame. Visible was a little girl with a smile adorning her face, the kind of smile that said "I don't have a care in the world". Beside her was a younger child, perhaps a year or two younger, with a look of wonder on her face. Behind them was a woman in a navy blue sweater and beige pants, her face was hard to decipher though. This picture reminded me of something, I once did the same thing to a photo I had because it was reminiscent of the good time. Back before…

Oh God no. This _was _the same picture. This was my old room that I shared with my little sister. And I folded that picture the night before-

As if on cue, the door burst open. Through it ran in two shaking and crying girls, whom I recognized as Gracie and I. I knew I couldn't watch this; I'd been through this enough. So as the girls ran to their hiding places, I grabbed the kitchen knife I kept in there for protection and stabbed myself in the chest.

I jumped myself up to a sitting position, panting heavily my body covered in cold sweat. I could literally hear my heartbeat pounding in my chest. I took a few deep breaths to calm down before thinking. I haven't had that dream in a long time. In fact, the last time I did, I woke Nikki up from an apparently pleasurable dream so she put me on pills for selfish reasons. But since I've been here I've not taken them, nor have I had a dream prior to this night.

I looked over at the nightstand to see the knives blade gleaming in the moonlight. As if it were egging me on. Drawing me to use it like I'd done so many times before. I picked up the weapon and stared at it for a few more minutes. I could either cut myself again and slide back into that hole of self-pity. Or I could put the knife down and start all over. I chose the latter and threw the weapon against the wall creating an echoing ring throughout the room. It disappeared behind the burrow as the ringing died down.

I still wasn't in the mood to sleep. So I did what I always did when I misplaced the blade. I went outside to stare up at the stars.

I didn't hear any movement above me so my guess was Edward was still asleep. I slithered down the stairs and to the back entrance he had shown me. It was a door that opens very easily with just a light push. It was very quiet too.

I walked down the steps and lay down on the grass. The sky was extremely clear. Though I wasn't too keen on the constellations, I could name a few.

"Trina?" I heard Edward speak from above me.

I jumped as I looked at him staring down at me from his broken window. I simply waved at him.

"What you doing?" He asked.

"Just looking at the stars." I said. "You're more than welcome to come down and join me."

I saw him disappear in the darkness. A few minutes later I heard the soft thump of footsteps coming down the stairs.

"I'm glad you decided to join me."

"Why are you looking at the stars?"

"I needed to relax." I was a little worried because I wasn't sure if I could tell him yet. I sure as hell wanted to, but the memories still hurt. Maybe that was why I had the dream.

"I heard you cry in your sleep." He said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry that I woke you up."

"It's okay. Did you have a bad dream?"

"Yes." I yawned. "I'm too scared to go back to sleep."

"Why does looking at the stars help?"

Oh God bless him for not asking what the dream was.

"Well when I was little me and my sister would come out and play a game to see who could name the most constellations. She would always win, but it never failed to cheer us up."

"What are constellations?"

"They're patterns in the stars that make up a formation." I pointed to the most obvious one. "See those four stars in a square formation that have three others sticking out of it."

"Yes."

"That's the big dipper. The most common and most familiar constellation." I pointed to another one. "See those stars in a perfect line with a bent line crossing through it?"

"Yes."

"That's Cygnus. Better known as the swan."

"I don't see a swan."

"Well you have to use your imagination. Create that which is not there." God how stupid is that explanation.

"How can I create something I've never seen?"

I looked at him. "You've never seen a swan in one of the books?"

He shook his head. "How do you find something in this ocean?"

I smiled at his choice of words. Gracie used to call it the same thing. "Well, I tend to look for a specific piece of the constellation. For example that row of stars that seem to be curved. That's the bow of Orion the Hunter."

"Why don't you do it with her anymore?" He asked.

That caused a lot of pain in my chest. He didn't ask that to do that, that I knew. He _was _genuinely curious and I owned it to him to let him know the truth.

"She's not around anymore."

"She doesn't live with you?"

I sighed. "It's not that. It's a long story Edward."

"We have time."

I smirked. "Yeah I guess we do."

I sighed again. There was no going back.

"Well it started when I was little."

**I am just so evil for stopping there. It doesn't mean that I don't know what happened to Trina, I do. I just want to see just HOW BAD you want to know.**

**10 reviews, and I'll write the next chapter. (Insert Evil Laugh Here) **


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: Disturbing story coming up.**

**Also, the chapter drags a little bit at the end, but I couldn't edit. **

**Enjoy**

**Disclaimer: Edward Scissorhands is NOT mine. If he were, he'd have real hands at the end of the movie.**

"_Well it all started when I was little."_

I took another deep breath, pushing the tears back.

"When I was little, my dad was a priest at our local church. He was well respected in the community. Everyone loved him. He was calm and collected in the face of a challenge, no matter how big."

_Or so I thought. _

"What about your mom?" Edward asked.

"My mom was the church organist, who stood by my dad no matter what. And like my dad, the community also respected her.

"We lived in a brick, ivy-covered house right next to the church."

"Did you have any siblings?"

"I had a little sister. Neither one of our parents ever laid an abusive hand on either of us."

"Abusive?" He looked really confused. More than I'd seen before. I racked my brain to try and find the right words. There were a bunch of different definitions as to what it was. But in this case, I thought it'd be better to describe what happened to me.

"Abuse means cruel treatment. Like people hitting someone or something. But it can also mean neglect or exposing something that's dangerous to a person or animal."

His face told me he understood, but I sensed another question behind his nod. "Why would a parent do that?"

I smiled with no hint of humor in my eyes. "Some people in this world are just mean. And no matter what you could do, it's not going to stop them."

"What happened then?"

"Well," I paused for another minute before continuing; "When I was eight, and Gracie was almost six Dad took us to the park after his service. Near the place we usually played there were a bunch of bushes surrounding the area. That day, we brought a ball and we accidently kicked it into the bushes. When I dug through the leaves I saw what looked like an arm. I grabbed it and tried to pull it out, but I saw then that it was a corpse. I freaked out and called my dad over. He immediately told me to drop it and run back to Gracie while he called the police.

"They retrieved the body and conducted an investigation. But because I touched the body, my DNA got onto it and since my DNA is identical to his, the police arrested my father." I tried as hard as I could not to choke on my words. "He was later released, but the damage had been done. Everyone had become deathly afraid of him. He was banned from the church, and he could never get a second job."

"What about your mother?" He asked.

"She lost a little of the respect because she stayed with my dad, but she was able to find work in one of the hair salons." I took what was probably my fiftieth breath before I continued. "Anyway, my dad got really depressed over the whole ordeal. To drown out all that pain he started going to the bar." The tears started to rain down hard. "Edward, he got really violent when he was drunk. He would come home late and start beating us."

"What do you mean by 'us'?"

"All of us." I sobbed. "In the beginning, Mom would be waiting for him before going to sleep. He would knock her unconscious and than barge into Gracie and I's room and whip us with his belt or strike us with a toy he could find." I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my face into them. I couldn't look at him; it hurt too much to speak. I felt like I was going to throw up.

He didn't respond and in my peripheral vision, I saw that he didn't move a muscle, not even a twitch of his blades.

I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I suddenly felt all the stings, burns, bruises, and broken bones all at once. I could hear my dad's belted screams. I could hear him calling us pointless, worthless, and pathetic excuses for living beings." I don't know how long I sat there letting what I'd tried so hard to keep bottled for years wash over me, but as I thought of the man sitting next to me, I somehow was able to calm down, but only slightly.

I sighed.

"Where are they now?" He asked worriedly.

I looked at him with eyes that held more sorrow than he ever could. I looked at the grass and continued. "One night, he didn't come home when he usually did. That worried everyone. But when we heard the slurring profanities outside the door. Mom rushed us up the stairs and hid us in different places in our room. Gracie was in the closet and I was under the bed. Mom rushed out the door to find Dad at the top of the stairs. Mom barricaded herself in between him and us. I could see that he was holding a beer bottle and a pair of kitchen scissors."

"Scissors?" He asked sadly, moving away from me.

I looked into his eyes and then placed my palm over his knuckles. "I'm _not _afraid of you. You never gave me a reason to be. So please don't move away from me." I pleaded. I sounded so desperate too, but I just didn't care anymore. "Anyway, Mom was thrown onto the floor and before she could let out a good cry, he started stabbing her. I don't even remember how many times he did, but it was a lot."

He merely nodded.

"When she stopped moving, he got up and started searching for us. When he was about to open the closet, I climbed out from under the bed and ran to the phone that was in the hallway.

"He saw me because there was a mirror attached to the closet door. As I picked up the phone, he bashed the beer bottle on my knee, shattering the bones there. I fell to the floor and dropped the phone. He kicked it away before grabbing my hair and holding the scissors over my throat."

"Were you gonna die?" He asked.

"I thought I was."

"Then what happened?"

I couldn't hold in the fresh sobs that escaped my throat, making it impossible for me to speak.

"If you can't say, we can stop." Edward offered.

"No." I took some deep breaths and held some of them to try to control the tears. "I need to get this out."

He was silent, but I could tell he was worried beyond belief.

"When Dad got abusive, I hid away a knife in my room for protection, the only one who knew about it was Gracie. I heard footsteps run from the room and something jam into my father's back.

"He raised the scissors away from my throat and dropped me. By then, I saw Gracie run down the stairs. After belting out some more profanities, he chased after her."

"Did you follow?"

"My knee was shattered. I could stand up on my own."

"Sorry I forgot."

"It's okay, people forget. It happens."

"But, then what did you do?"

"The phone was only a few feet away from me. Despite the physical pain, I was able to drag myself to the phone and call for help. I told them that my mom had been stabbed to death, my leg was broken, but before I could them anything else, my sister let out an ear-splitting scream. One that even the operator could hear, but I passed out after that due to loss of blood. A few hours later I woke up in a hospital bed."

"Your sister and mother never woke up again?"

I couldn't help it. Through the sobs, I let out a soft smirk and nodded, but that only lasted for a total of three seconds before a new wave of tears hit me. I felt nauseous, dizzy, and like the weight of the world was pushed down on my shoulders. It all hurt so much, that I lost all control of my muscles and buried my face in Edward's shoulder. "They're gone and Dad's in prison."

He tensed up a little bit, but he didn't move away. In fact, I felt him move one of his arms and encase me in a one-armed hug. "Thank you."

I looked up at him questioningly.

"For telling me." He elaborated.

I only managed a small nod.

"What can I do? To help?"

I smiled and locked my arms around him. "Just don't leave." Okay, that was a little strange considering it was _his _house, but at the moment I didn't care. I felt safe, happy, and all the head-splitting guilt evaporated when I'm with him. I could breathe and laugh, something no one else could make me do.

He simply nodded as I admitted to myself what I was too scared and confused to before:

I was in love with Edward.

**Don't you dare say I didn't warn you.**

**One more thing: I'm starting college in less than a month, so I don't think I can finish the story, that doesn't mean I'm going to abandon it, I just won't be able to write very often. **


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